Catnapped
For Nelleke
It was one of those Sundays when the sun shone into Hutch's apartment and made him start singing
"And the sun came up like butterscotch and stuck to all senses….."
He sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee and munching a slice of whole wheat toast. He had a whole day ahead of him and he didn't know what he wanted to do with it.
The 'phone rang. He toyed with the idea of leaving it but he was a cop and that meant that even off-duty he was liable to be called out to work at any moment. He walked across the room and snatched the receiver before the fifth ring.
"Hutch?"
He made a face.
"Yea Starsk."
"Hutch I need you to come over here…."
Hutch's instincts went on high alert. The last time Starsky had made a call like this he's found his partner lying on the bedroom floor fighting to stay conscious as a fast acting poison worked its way into his system. But this time Starsky sounded wide awake.
"Starsky, it's Sunday, it's our day off and we agreed to do our own thing."
"I know but…"
Hutch sighed and braced himself for the crazy excuse.
"…I can't move. I need you to come and help me here."
He can't move? Shit!
"I'm on my way Starsky. Are you in pain…."
"A little cramp maybe but…"
"Did you call an ambulance or a doctor?"
"No, I called you."
There it was; that matter of fact, 'what are you some kind of dummy?' tone of voice that Starsky used when he felt he was stating the obvious to someone who should already know it. Hutch swallowed his anger; it was possible that Starsky was in some kind of trouble. Cramp, he said cramp. He had a fleeting image of Starsky suddenly hitching up as he ran after a suspect; wincing in pain and clutching his leg. I guess it's just cramp. But it wasn't just cramp – it was the shooting pain Starsky still had from time to time even eight years after he'd been injured in the war.
"I'm on my way. Don't move."
Once again Hutch was treated to the flat delivery. "I already told you I can't move; that's why I called you."
Hutch dressed hurriedly and it wasn't until he was running to the car that he realized he was wearing one gray trainer and one brown one.
He coaxed his car into life; pumping the gas a couple of times before turning the key and then easing it into a low gear instead of going straight to drive. The car behaved until he turned into the canyon road that led to Starsky's house; as he accelerated the gears slipped and he had to take her down to 2 to get her up the hill.
He parked next to the Torino and didn't bother to lock the car. He ran up the steps and found the spare key in the flowerpot by the door.
He opened the door and scanned the room wondering where he would spot his partner lying helpless on the floor. But Starsky was nowhere to be seen.
"Starsky?"
"I'm in the bedroom." He didn't shout but projected a loud whisper as if he didn't want to disturb someone.
He's not alone…is this a trap?
Hutch drew his gun and held it loosely by his side, ready to snap it into action if he had to. He edged to the bedroom and put his head around the doorway;
He dropped the gun.
Starsky was lying in his bed tickling a big fluffy cat that was lying in his stomach.
"Meet Goldie," he said with a grin. "She kind of adopted me in the night – I think she came in through the window."
"Chelsea Morning" Joni Mitchell